a. It cried, " A particle'-a speck'--& MITE .

Of endless years, duration infinite!'-MARSDEN.
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,

The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
b. Yea, all which it inherit', shall dissolve;

And, like the baseless fabric of a vision,
Leave not a rack behind.-SHAKSPEARE.

Parting day
Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues

With a new color, as it gasps away,
c. The last still loveliest, till E'tis gone and all is gray.
d. High on a throne of royal state, which far

Outshone the wealth of Ormus or of Ind;
Or where the gorgeous East, with richest hand,
Show'rg, on her kings barbaric, pearl and gold,
Satan exalted sat.-MILTON.

O my soul's joy!!
If after every tempest come such calms',

May the winds blow till they have waken'd death'!
e. O joy'! thou welcome stranger'! twice three years

I have not felt thy vital beam'; but now
It warms my veins', and plays about my heart':
A fiery instinct lifts me from the ground,

And I could mount-
f. I am not mad _I would to heaven I were'!

For then 'tis like I should forget myself :

Oh if I could, what grief should I forget!
g. That strain again!! it had a dying fall!!

Oh, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,
That breathes upon a bank of violete,

Stealing and giving odor. The beauty of a plain', the greatness of a mountain', the ornaments of a building', the expression of a picture', the composition of a discourse', the conduct of a third person', the proportion of different quantities and numbers', the various appearances which the great machine of the universe is perpetually exhibiting', the secret wheels and springs which produce them', all the general subjects of science and taste', are what we and our companions regard as having no peculiar relation to either of us,

TO-MORROW.
To-morrow didst thou say'?

Methought I heard Horatio say to-morrowl:
i. Go to!, I will not hear' of it; to-morrow'!

'Tis a sharper, who stakes his penury'
Against thy plenty'; who takes thy ready cash,
And pa yg thee naught but wishes, hopes, and promises

The currency of idiots'; injurious bankrupt,
i. That gulls the easy creditor. To-morrow'!

a. This is an example of intensive emphasis, which rises into a climax at MITE.

b. This also requires a gradually rising pitch of the voice on each successive member to the acme of the passage; then, by a gradual descent, the voice should return to its ordi. pary level.

c. Rhetorical pause of suspension.
d. Rule XII., the monotone.
e. e. Unexpected joy, which elevates the voice to the highest pitch.

f. Extreme sorrow, which also raises the voice to a high pitch. In the second line the voice should fall partially; and in the third line it should be still lower, but very forcible.

g. Here is an example of pleasing melancholy, which adopts a slow pronunciation, and a soft, low tone. The last three lines should be spoken in a monotone.

These examples show that in exclamatory sentences the tone of the passion should reg. ulate the tone of the voice.

h. The reader would also do well to consider the particulars in this series as emphatic, and read the whole as a concluding series.

i. i. Where exclamatory sentences have the character of direct questions, they receive the rising inflection. Rule X., Note.

It is a period nowhere to be found
In all the hoary registers of Time',
Unless perchance in the fool's calendár.
Wisdom disclaims the word, nor holds society
With those who own' it. No', my Horatio',
'Tis Fancy's child', and Folly is its father';
Wrought of such stuff as dreams are, and as baseless
As the fantastic visions of the evening.-COTTON.
The bell strikes one. We take no note of time
But from its lòss : to give it then a tongue
Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke,
I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright,
It is the knell of my departed hours.
Where are they? With the years beyond the flood.
It is the signal that demands dispatch :
How much is to be done! My hopes and fears
Start up alarmed, and o'er life's narrow verge
Look down-on what'? A fathomless abyss !
A dread eternity'! how surely mine!
And can eternity belong to me,

Poor pensionér on the bounties of an hour'?_YOUNG. a. There are tears' for his love'; joy for his fortune'; honor for his valor'; and death' for his ambition!

a. There are tears for his love'; joy for his fortune'; honor for his valor'; and deaths for his ambition!

b. Do you think he will come to-day'?

Do you think he will come to-day'? said John'.

Am I my brother's keeper'? said the unhappy man'.
b. Where are you going'?

Where are you going'? said John'.
c. For Heaven's' sake, Hubert', let me not be bound'!

Nay', hear me, Hubert'! drive these men away',
And I will sit as quiet as a lamb';
I will not stir', nor wince, nor speak a word,
Nor look upon the irons angrily'; .
Thrust but these men away', and I'll forgive you,

Whatever torment you do put me to'. Shylock. He hath disgraced' me, and hindered me of half a million': laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends!, heated mine enemies'; and what's his reason'? I am a Jew!! Hath not a Jew eyes'? hath not a Jew hånds', organs', dimensions', sěnses', affections', påssions' ? fed with the same food', hurt with the same weapons', subject to the same diseases', heated by the same means', warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is'? if you prick'us, do we not blĕed' ? if you tickle' us, do we not lăugh'? if you poison' us, do we not die'? and if you wrông' us, shall we not revenge'? if we are like you in the rest', we will resemble you in that. If a Jew' wrong a Christian', what is his humility'? revenge'; if a Christian' wrong a Jéw', what should his sufferance' be by Christian example'? why, revenge'. The villainy you teach' me' I will executel; and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.

and if you wrony if a Jew wrond his sufferar

a. a. See Note to Rule VIII. Here are two different readings of the same passage, and each has its advocates. The first rendering supposes that the words were spoken with little or no depth of feeling; the second gives to them a considerable degree of intense feeling and emphatic solemnity. Those who agree as to the meaning will read the passage alike. It is not, therefore, the principles of elocution that are at fault here, but the impossibility of knowing, in this as in thousands of other instances, what were the exact sentiments and emotions of the speaker. (See also p. 20.)

b. b. Not only has a direct question the rising slide, but a succeeding dependent circumstance takes the rising slide also. A dependent circumstance following an indirect question also takes the rising slide. The principle in both cases will be made apparent, as already explained, by restoring the natural order of the sentences. Thus:

John said', do you think he will come to-day'?

John said', where are you going'? For the inflection after said," see Rule II.

C. This is spoken throughout in the tone of plaintive entreaty.

LESSON 1.—GREEN RIVER. 1. When breezes are soft and skies are fair,

I steal an hour from study and care,
And hie me away to the woodland scene,
Where wanders the stream with waters of green,
As if the bright fringe of herbs on its brink
Had given their stain to the wave they drink;
And they, whose meadows it murmurs through,
Have named the stream from its own fair hue.

2. How pure its waters ! its shallows are bright

With colored pebbles and sparkles of light,
And clear the depths where its eddies play,
And dimples deepen and whirl away.
Oh, loveliest there the spring days come,
With blossoms, and birds, and wild bees' hum;
The flowers of summer are fairest there,
And freshest the breath of the summer air;
And sweetest the golden autumn day

In silence and sunshine glides away.
3. Yet, fair as thou art, thou shunnest to glide,

Beautiful stream! by the village side;
But windest away from haunts of men,
To quiet valley and shaded glen;
And forest, and meadow, and slope of hill,
Around thee, are lonely, lovely, and still.
Lonely,' save when, by thy rippling tides,
From thicket to thicket the angler glides;
Or the simpler comes with basket and book,
For herbs of power on thy banks to look ;
Or haply, some idle dreamer, like me, .
To wander, and muse, and gaze on thee.
Still, save the chirp of birds that feed
On the river cherry and seedy reed,
And thy own wild music gushing out
With mellow murmur and fairy shout,
From dawn to the blush of another day,

Like traveler singing along his way.
4. I often come to this quiet place,

To breathe the airs that ruffle thy face,
And gaze upon thee in silent dream,
For in thy lonely and lovely stream
An image of that calm life appears
That won my heart in my greener years.- BRYANT.

LESSON II.-THE BEST KIND OF REVENGE. 1. SOME years ago, a warehouseman in Manchester, Enc gland, published a scurrilous? pamphlet, in which he endeavored to hold up the house of Grant Brothers to ridicule. William Grant remarked upon the occurrence that the man would live to repent what he had done; and this was conveyed by some tale-bearer to the libeler 2 who said, “Oh, I suppose he thinks I shall some time or other be in his debt; but I will take good care of that.” It happens, however, that a man in business can not always choose who shall be his creditors. The pamphleteer became a bankrupt,4 and the brothers held an acceptance of his which had been indorsed to them by the drawer,? who had also become a bankrupt.

2. The wantonly-libeled men had thus become creditors of the libeler! They now had it in their power to make him repent of his audacity. He could not obtain his certificate without their signature, and without it he could not enter into business again. He had obtained the number of signatures required by the bankrupt law except one. It seemed folly to hope that the firm of “the brothers” would supply the deficiency. What! they, who had cruelly been made the laughing-stocks of the public, forget the wrong and favor the wrong-doer? He despaired. But the claims of a wife and children forced him at last to make the application. Humbled by misery, he presented himself at the counting-house of the wronged.

3. Mr. William Grant was there alone, and his first words to the delinquent were, “Shut the door, sir !”—sternly uttered. The door was shut, and the libeler stood trembling before the libeled. He told his tale, and produced his certificate, which was instantly clutched by the injured merchant. “ You wroté a pamphlet against us once !” exclaimed Mr. Grant. The supplicant expected to see his parchment thrown into the fire. But this was not its destination. Mr. Grant. took a pen, and, writing something upon the document, handed it back to the bankrupt. He, poor wretch! expected to see “rogue, scoundrel, libeler” inscribed, but there was, in fair round characters, the signature of the firm.

4. “ We make it a rule," said Mr. Grant, “never to refuse signing the certificate of an honest tradesman, and we have never heard that you were any thing else.” The tears started into the poor man's eyes. “Ah !” said Mr. Grant, “my saying was true. I said you would live to repent writing that pamphlet. I did not mean it as a threat. I only meant that some day you would know us better, and be sorry you had tried to injure us. I see you repent of it now." "I do, I do!” said the grateful man; “I bitterly repent it.” “Well, well, my dear fellow, you know us now. How do you get on? What are you going to do ?” The poor man stated that he had friends who could assist him when his certificate was obtained. “But how are you off in the mean time?”.

5. And the answer was, that, having given up every farthing to his creditors, he had been compelled to stint his family of even common necessities, that he might be enabled to pay the cost of his certificate. “My dear fellow, this will not do ; your family must not suffer. Be kind enough to take this ten-pound note to your wife from me. There, there, my